Making Memories
by Clever Ink Slinger
Summary: Charlie Weasley spends All Hallows' Eve making unforgettable memories with his children, nieces, and nephews as they carve pumpkins. Though initially he was not pleased about helping out, the activity soon grows on him as he spun a Halloween tale about why they carve pumpkins. Afterwards the are done, he finishes the evening off with a bit of enchanting that dazzles them all.


**Title: **Making Memories  
**Category:** Books - Harry Potter  
**Challenge(s):** Minor Character Boot Camp, Holiday Spirit: HALLOWEEN Boot Camp, Character Diversity Boot Camp, The Family Boot Camp(Weasley's), Setting Boot Camp(Burrow), Movie Quote Boot Camp, The Snakes and Ladders Challenge, and the Halloween Pumpkin Challenge!  
**Prompt(s): **Creepy, Pumpkin, Dark, Satisfying, Hearth, Rosebud, Charlie Weasley, and Pumpkin Stories!  
**Length:** Oneshot – 4,347 words!  
**Rating: **K  
**Pairing or Characters: **Charlie Weasley and many, many others!  
**Thanks: **A big thank you goes out to my beta readers, Kyla and LJ. You guys are both awesome and I really enjoy working with both of you!  
**Disclaimer:** Though it pains me to say so, I do not own the rights to anything that belongs to the Harry Potter universe, nor do I make any money from writing about them. The only thing(s) that I can claim as mine own are the ideas and/or characters that may be woven into the wonderful world of all that is Harry Potter. Everything else is used in the spirit of good-natured fun or naughty shenanigans. What can I say? I just like to play!  
**Author's Notes: ** Just so you guys know, in my head Charlie married a Romanian woman named Anka. Together they had three boys and a one girl, all of which are being raised in Romania. I was going to try to write their accents so that they come across as foreign, but I figure that if two parents who can fluently speak English are raising them then I don't really have to try to work an accent into my writing. These characters are permanent head canon for me and I am still developing a comfortable writing style with them. I only ask that you please not criticize me too harshly for them. In addition, in my head-canon, Fred didn't die in the war! He went on to marry Alicia Spinnet and they had four children of their own. I am sorry if you people aren't fond of the head-canon choices that I've made…but hopefully you can all see past them and enjoy the story.  
**Written For: **My good friend Jess! =)

* * *

**Making Memories**

As Charlie Weasley walked beneath the boughs of the apple-laden trees, the smell of freshly dampened earth and decaying leaves filled his nose. It was a familiar scent, one that reminded him of all the memories that the old apple orchard held. There were pieces of his childhood everywhere he looked. He could remember sitting in the shade of the trees on warm summer days reading books about dragons in faraway lands. All of the gnarled tree trunks reminded him of climbing through the bare branches with Bill once the leaves had fallen away in the autumn. The rosy red of the apples peeking through the green leaves made him yearn for a piece of warm apple pie, fresh from the oven. Even the shadows playing underneath the heavy branches reminded him of creepy games of hide and seek that he and his siblings played every Halloween. Yes, the old orchard held many happy memories for Charlie.

A fierce October wind wound its way through the grove causing the old limbs to creak as the large trees swayed overhead, and the leaves gave a hissing rustle of protest at being disturbed. Charlie huddled in his brown leather jacket, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. The dark rain clouds from earlier had blown away as he walked, leaving the autumn sun heavy in the sky. In just under an hour the sky would be shrouded in a curtain of star speckled onyx and the waning moon would be ascending into the great stretch of sky over the Burrow. Charlie would have liked to enjoy the all Hallows Eve sunset, but he needed to get back to the house. He was sure if he stayed outside too much longer, that his wife Anka would realize he was gone and come looking for him.

Another blast of chilly air rushed passed his upturned face as Charlie turned toward the Burrow. Faintly he could hear the sound of small voices being carried on the wind and his umber eyes flitted down the hill from where he was walking out from under the trees. Charlie was expecting to see Anka looking for him with their youngest son Sorin, but instead he saw his only daughter Crina and his niece Rose skipping up the hill to him. As they drew near, his face cracked into a heartfelt smile. He could hear them giggling merrily about what they were going to dress up as for Halloween and again he was reminded of memories of Halloweens long past.

As they drew to a halt before him, Charlie said, "Well if it isn't Crina Ballerina and Rosebud, what brings you girls out here on this nippy October evening?"

"Daddy, Daddy!" Crina chirped with a sunny smile. She danced with excitement on the spot, causing her strawberry blonde pigtails to bounce wildly around her face. "Mommy said we were to come find you!"

"Yeah Uncle Charlie, Aunt Anka said you have a special story to tell us about why we carve pumpkins. She said we couldn't carve the pumpkins that Hagrid brought over until you tell us your story." Rose gave Charlie one of her cute dimpled smiles. Just like his own daughter, Rose had a smile that could melt even the most frigid of hearts.

Charlie was confused for just a moment. He didn't have a special story to tell about pumpkin carving! Where on earth had Anka gotten that idea from? But, as the pieces clicked into place, Charlie realized that his wife had set him up. Like a tricky spider spinning a sticky web, the crafty little witch had found a way to ensnare him. He would have no choice but to participate in the pumpkin carving that the kids did every Halloween, though normally he found a way around being one of the supervising adults for the messy tradition.

"Oh she did, did she?" Charlie asked with a lifted brow. Both of the six-year-old girls nodded their heads eagerly at his question and he couldn't help but smile down into their innocent faces. Still smiling like a hatter, he withdrew his warm hands from his pockets and wrapped them around each of the girl's hands as they headed toward the house. With amusement dancing through his words Charlie add, "That sounds about like something that Anka would say."

Neither Crina nor Rose knew what Charlie was talking about, but each little girl skipped happily alongside of him as they ambled along. It wasn't long before they had reached the warm oblique house that had served as his childhood home. The warmth of the fire crackling in the hearth washed over them as they walked through the old creaky Dutch door. Before they tore off, Charlie told the girls to take their rain boots off and place them in the scullery. His argument to their protests was that Grandma Molly wouldn't be very happy if her beloved grandchildren dirtied her freshly scrubbed floor. After placing their boots out of the way and hanging their jackets on a nearby coat rack wearing a top hat, the petite cousins ran off into the warm house with Charlie following close behind them.

A heart-warming sight met his eyes as the three of them made their way into the sitting room. Littering the floor, settees, and armchairs were his nearest and dearest. Charlie's nieces and nephews were entraining themselves with board games, colouring books, and playing with little toys from Uncle Fred and George's joke shop. George himself was bouncing his five-year-old daughter, Roxanne, on his knee while he and Fred told her stories about the mischief they got into when they were younger. Angelina and Alicia were sprawled on the floor with the older girls and boys, colouring in pictures of Halloween related things like pumpkins, warty witches, and black cats. Bill and Fleur sat cuddled together watching an old muggle television - enchanted to work as it was missing its plug - that Arthur had rescued form a garbage bin while he was working. On the What's What of the Wizarding World channel there was a documentary about how Halloween and the wizarding world were intertwined. Mr Weasley was absorbed in a conversation with Harry about the function of electric meters. Beside him sat Percy and Audrey, both of them holding a copy of the Evening Prophet in front of their noses. Hermione and Ron sat on the floor holding hands. Hugo had fallen asleep on his Mum's chest and Hermione was rubbing small circles on his back. Ginny sat cross-legged in a wide armchair beside her Mum, knitting a jumper for Lily. On the last settee was his beautiful blonde wife Anka. She sat holding Sorin who was playing with a miniature toy dragon that was enchanted to look and behave as if it were real.

Anka smiled at Charlie, her sea-green eyes dancing with mischief, as he took a seat beside her, "I see that the girls found you alright." She leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips.

"Oh yes, they found me alright. They also informed me that I have a "special story" to tell them. Funny, I don't recall anything about this story." Charlie said in a gruff tone, acting as if he wasn't very happy about the idea.

"Don't pretend to be angry with me Charlie Weasley. I know you better than that! Besides, it wouldn't hurt you to spend a little time with the kids this Halloween. All of them adore you and your stories, which is why I volunteered you. Anyway, you always find a way out of helping with the carving, and this year _I'm_ going to sneak off with some hot apple cider while _you _get _your_ hands dirty for once." Anka said flashing him a dazzling, self-assured smile as she tucked a lock of flaming red hair behind his ear.

He looked down into Anka's upturned, smiling face. The playful confidence that he saw there made the corners of his mouth droop into a frown and the skin between his eyebrows furrowed. "But you know how I am with messy stuff…I just don't like it."

"What? Is my heap big dragon adventurer worried about getting pumpkin guts on his hands? I thought my husband was made of tougher stuff than that," she teased half-heartedly.

Charlie could hear the playfulness that laced Anka's words, but he could not help feeling as if she was making fun of him, "I've got titanium bollocks woman, you know it just as well as I do."

Anka did not say a word, but her eyes still twinkled with merriment. Her husband was one of the bravest people she knew, aside from Harry Potter of course. Charlie had spent most of his adult life studying and working with some of the most dangerous creatures in the world without a shred of fear. In fact, he would stride right up to a Romanian Longhorn without blinking an eye if it were endangering somebody. Anka had seen him do so more than once in the years that she had worked beside Charlie! No, her husband was a very brave man. Nevertheless, it would not do well if he got a big head over it and that was precisely why she gave him a hard time when the opportunity cropped up.

"Daddy had titanium bollocks, bollocks, bollocks, bollocks," sang Sorin with an ecstatic expression on his little face. The chubby-cheeked little boy giggled and looked about the room to see if anybody was paying attention to him.

Charlie flushed an awful shade of red when laughter broke out through the room. He gave an uncomfortable chuckle and mussed Sorin's strawberry blond hair, "Erm….that's right big guy."

Anka gave her youngest son a great big squeeze and said, "You know you're not supposed to repeat words like that Sorin." Then she placed a loving kiss atop his head and turned back to Charlie, "And you know you aren't supposed to say things like that in rooms where there are little ears."

"Sorry love," Charlie said, ashamed.

Just then, Crina plopped down heavily onto his lap. "Daddy, can we hear your story now? I want to carve my pumpkin before bedtime if that's alright."

"Oh alright then, but let's go into the kitchen. You kids can start carving out your pumpkins while I tell the story." Excited by this idea, the children hurried off to the kitchen. Before he joined them Charlie whispered to Anka, "I'm going to get you back for this later tonight."

"Ooooooh, is that a promise?"

Charlie just shook his head and climbed to his feet. Before he could reach the doorway however, a voice called, "Charlie I know that you didn't really have a story planned. So why don't you tell them about Stingy Jack."

He turned back and glanced at Hermione. "You mean the bloke who made the deal with the devil?"

"Yes. You know the story?" Hermione questioned as she got to her feet with Hugo still sleeping in her arms. His little legs dangled limply and one of his shoe clad feet clipped Ron in the side of the head.

"Hey, watch it," cried Ron, rubbing at the spot as he got to his feet.

Both Charlie and Hermione ignored him though, "Sure I remember it, Mum and Dad used to tell us the story when we were growing up. Funny, I don't remember ever telling the story to my children. I really liked hearing it as a boy."

Hermione nodded, "Well Ron and I will be helping tonight anyway, so if you get stuck I'll point you in the right direction."

Together they moved off into the packed kitchen. There where children scattered throughout the room, trying to find a free space to sit with their gigantic pumpkins. Hermione told them all to stand aside and she cast a spell that extended the table so that it was big enough to fit them all. She had also transfigured a few empty flowerpots into extra chairs so that everyone had their own seat.

Once the children were seated, including a very sleepy Hugo who was yawning and leaning his forehead against his pumpkin, Charlie began telling the story of Stingy Jack. "Centuries ago, amongst the myriad of towns and villages in Ireland, there lived a grumpy old drunkard known as Stingy Jack. Now, Jack was known throughout the land to be a deceiver. He manipulated people and cheated them whenever he could. Most consider Jack to be a menace of society and they stayed well away from him if it were possible."

Charlie began to walk around the table with Hermione, helping the children cut holes in the top of their pumpkins so that they could clean out the insides. He had to pause telling his story for a moment while he fought with a particularly difficult pumpkin sitting before Teddy. The stem had broken off so that it was too short to grasp and the insides of the pumpkin were holding the lid tightly in place.

As the pause stretched, Victoire asked, "Uncle Charlie, what does Stringy Jack have to do with carving out pumpkins?"

"His name is Stingy Jack, Tori," Hermione corrected gently. Victoire was at the sensitive age of thirteen and one had to mind how they talked to her. If they came across too harshly, Tori would burst into tears and yell about how nobody understands her.

Finally dislodging the lid from Teddy's pumpkin, Charlie said, "We'll get to that soon enough." He gave Victoire a wink, which made her smile from ear to ear, and then continued his story. "One evening the Devil heard tales of old Stingy Jack. He heard about all of Jack's evil deeds and about how he used his silver-tongue for deceiving. Unconvinced that a mere mortal could be more evil than he and envious that it might be true, the Devil paid Jack a visit to find out for himself if he really lived up to his vile reputation."

While Charlie paused to help his oldest son Dragos, the twelve year old said, "Did he live up to his reputation dad?"

"That he did Drag," Charlie affirmed. Then he moved on to help his twin nieces Isabel and Gwendolyn, Fred and Alicia's daughters, as he continued his story. "As was typical for Jack, he was wandering through the countryside in the middle of the night, completely sloshed. While he stumbled along Jack found a body lying on the cobblestone lane. Jack peered into the face of the body and saw that it wore an eerie grimace…and to Jack's alarm the body turned out to be the Devil in disguise. Solemnly the old drunk realized that the Devil had finally come to collect his malevolent soul. Jack made one last request of the Devil before he departed to Hell. He asked that the Devil let him drink deeply of ale. Finding no reason to decline the request, the Devil took Jack to a local pub and let him drink his fill. Once Jack had quenched his thirst, he asked the Devil to pay the tab for the ale that he had consumed."

"Uncle Charlie, why would the Devil pay the tab for such a bad man," eight-year-old George asked with honest curiosity in his voice.

Charlie looked questioningly at Hermione, asking her for help with his brown eyes. She grinned and said, "Because old Jack didn't have any money in his pockets.

"But who cares about paying the pub owner, the Devil was there to take Jack's soul to hell," stated eight-year-old Fred, who was sitting beside his cousin George.

A look of amusement spread across Charlie's face as he looked at the two boys. They were just like his younger brothers, only they were cousins a few weeks apart in age. Shaking his head and chuckling, Charlie said, "Well the Devil was impressed with Jack's suggestion. You see, after Jack suggested that the Devil pay the tab, he also suggested that the Devil turn himself into a silver coin. That way Jack could pay the tab with the silver coin and then the Devil could morph back into himself, ripping off the barkeeper."

"Sheesh, what a jerk," claimed James. He was listening to the story intently while he scooped handfuls of pumpkin guts out onto a newspaper beside him.

"Yes James…he was," said Charlie. He was standing besides Sorin with a disgusted expression on his handsome face. It was time to clean the gloopy mess from inside of the pumpkins, but Charlie found himself hesitating. The red-headed man really didn't like what he was about to do and his face screwed up into an awful expression of loathing. Reluctantly he put his hand in Sorin's pumpkin and came away with a handful of pumpkin innards in his hands. Revolted by the squishy flesh, Charlie slung the goop aside and wiped his hands on a bit of kitchen cloth. It has to be one of the most repulsive things he had ever had to do. Trying to distract himself, he continued with his story. "So, once the Devil had changed into a sliver coin, Jack put it into his pocket. The pocket had a crucifix inside of it as well, trapping the Devil in Jack's pocket and keeping him from escaping his form. This forced the Devil to agree to Jack's demand: in exchange for the Devil's freedom the Devil had to spare Jack's soul for ten long years. The Devil had no choice but to agree to the terms. Ten years later, he found himself once again in the Devil's company. As the Devil prepared to take Jack to the underworld, Jack asked if he could have an apple to feed his starving belly. Foolishly, the Devil once again agrees to his last request. While the Devil climbed a large apple tree nearby, Jack surrounded its base with crucifixes. The Devil, infuriated by the fact that he had been tricked once more, demanded that Jack release him. But, as he had before, Jack insisted that he and the Devil make a new deal. For the freedom of the Devil, he had to promise that Jack's soul would never be taken by the Devil. Having no choice, the Devil agreed and Jack set him free."

The room had gone almost silent as Charlie now leaned against the counter, spinning his tale. The only sounds throughout the cluttered kitchen were those of the kids carving pictures clumsily into their pumpkins. Hermione was sitting with Hugo, who was only half-heartedly carving his own pumpkin because he was so tired. Together they were cutting the shape of a spooky ghost into the ochre flesh. Ron on the other hand was helping little Lily carve a skeleton. Charlie hadn't realized it, but a few of the other adults had found their way into the kitchen while he spoke. Behind him stood Anka, who was holding a steaming mug of apple cider and sipping at it delicately. Beside her was his mum, smiling brightly at her grown son who was finally taking part in the holiday fun. Molly looked satisfied and Charlie could only assume that she had been listening to his tale on Stingy Jack.

Charlie wrapped an arm around Anka's shoulders, drawing her in close to his chest, and then began the last stretch of his story, "Eventually Jack's drinking caught up with him and he died. Unfortunately for Jack, he was stopped as his soul prepared to enter Heaven through the gates of St. Peter. Jack was told that because of his sinful lifestyle of drinking and deceiving that he couldn't enter Heaven. Disheartened, Jack made his way to stand before the Gates of Hell. There he begged the Devil to accept him into the underworld. But, the Devil who stood smugly by his promise, told Jack that he couldn't take his soul. Instead, Jack would have to wander through the planes of good and evil forever. To warn others of his presence, the Devil gave Jack an ember, marking him as a dweller of the netherworld. Because Jack had been cast out he was doomed to roam the world, with only an ember inside of a hollowed turnip to light his way."

There was a pause in the story and in the moment it took him to continue, there was a flurry of questions. Some of the kids wanted to know what the story of Stingy Jack had to do with pumpkin carving and a few of the younger kids wanted to know if Jack still roamed the world with his turnip.

"Well," Charlie explained lightly, "It became a tradition to carve scary designs into hollowed out turnips, gourds, and potatoes because it was said that they scared Jack away. You see…when he saw the glowing faces in the windows and doors of the house, Jack thought that they were fellow evil spirits haunting humankind, so devious that even the Devil didn't want them in hell."

"Does Jack still roam the world without a resting place," questioned Lily softly. A hint of fear was visible on her thin, pale face.

"Yes love, I'm afraid he does. But, that's why we have you carve pumpkins every year. They scare all of the evil spirits away and protect you in your sleep." Charlie reached out and lovingly ruffled Lily's black curls.

"Well if people hollowed out turnips and junk like that, why are we carving out pumpkins," came Louis' voice from the far end of the table.

Molly had seen that the questions were going to keep coming if she didn't help wrap up the story. Smiling, she walked to the table so that she could inspect their handy work. As she looked at each spooky design, Molly said, "Louis, when you get to Hogwarts you'll learn many interesting things in Professor Longbottom's Herbology class. One of them will be telling the difference between vegetables that we can use in potions. You'll learn that gourds, squash, and pumpkins are all in the same family."

Rose, clever just like her mum asked, "If they started out carving turnips, why did the people decide to use other vegetables? Shouldn't they have just used turnips?"

Hermione beamed at her daughter's thoughtful observation, "People decided to use pumpkins because they are easier to carve than common gourds and turnips."

Charlie thought that the wave of questions was over, but Hugo proved him wrong. The boy, who had been silent up until that point said, "Mine's all done Uncle Charlie. Can we put them in the windows to keep Jack away?"

"Of course we can," Charlie said. "But I was thinking…since there are so many windows in the Burrow and not enough pumpkins, what if we put them around the house instead? Ah…Rose, don't even ask. Just grab your pumpkins and follow me."

Together they made their way into the quiet yard. The sun had slipped out of sight while they were in the house. In its place was the moon, large and beautiful in the sky. After instructing the children to place their pumpkins on the ground, Charlie drew his wand that had been tucked under his pant leg and inside of his boot. While the kids watched, Charlie enchanted the pumpkins so that they each had a warm light radiating from within. Once he had done that, he cast an engorgement charm on them so that the already gigantic pumpkins now stood three feet taller than they started. With a touch of levitation and a dash of enchanted dancing, the enlarged pumpkins were lining the house and swaying in unison from side to side. Images of vampires, ghouls, skeletons, mummies, spiders, cats, and zombies were cheerfully dancing around in an incredible light show.

As they stood admiring the enchanting scene, Crina walked up to her dad and took hold of his hand. "They're amazing daddy."

"Well," Charlie chuckled softly, "I didn't do much sweetheart."

Albus stared at the dancing images. "Jack's not getting into this house…that's for sure!"

"Of course not dears," Molly murmured tenderly, "Now then, into the house all of you. It's time for a cup of hot chocolate and then up to bed."

Eager for a cup of Grandma Molly's delicious hot chocolate, the children bustled into the house. Anka fell behind the group, pulling Charlie back with her. She wrapped her arms around him, breathing in the lovely smell of the hard candy apple drops that he always sucked. Anka stretched up on her tiptoes to place a warm kiss on Charlie's soft lips. Then she said, "I'm glad that you helped the kids tonight. They really liked hearing about Stingy Jack, and they enjoyed the enchantments you placed on their pumpkins. It meant a lot to them."

Clouds had drifted in to clutter the night sky and in the distance thunder rumbled. The smell of rain breathed gently around them. _So much for the rain free Halloween that the muggle weather man predicted_, Charlie thought. He flashed Anka a bright smile. "If I'm completely honest, I rather enjoyed myself this evening, despite the fact that I had to deal with pumpkin guts."

Rain started to patter down softly as they stood together in the cool autumn evening, surrounded by the dancing images cast through the pumpkins. A giggle bubbled up from between Anka's lips and she gave Charlie another big kiss on the lips before saying, "Let's get inside and get some of that hot chocolate before the kids drink it all."

Together they walked into the house. When Charlie saw all of the kids sitting with their hot chocolate he knew that he would never forget this Halloween and he mentally promised himself that he would take part in their family tradition from then on. Handling all of the pumpkin guts was more than worth the feeling of contentment that he felt, and it was definitely worth the new Halloween memories that he would carry with him for the rest of his life.


End file.
